Songs of Elibe
by Nightmare Prince
Summary: Between the blades and bitter steel, we built homes that were destined to fall. [A collection of one-shots set in Elibe, set between the events of Fire Emblem 6 and 7.] Character tags will reflect the main characters of the latest story posted.
1. Pale Flower

**Pale Flower**

The orphanage was a rickety place, a humble home in northern Araphen. When the wind howled, as it did tonight, it would whistle through the cracks beneath the windows and upset the thatch upon the roof, but those were small matters, easily fixed. Money was scarce, what with all the tiny mouths he had to feed, but they made do with the small vegetable garden, the chickens in their coop, and the two cows who'd wandered to his home all those years ago. Still, Lucius was happy, or as happy as he could be.

The warm light of his staff was enough to dispel the chill of the night, and the soft snores of the children in their beds were a soothing melody to his ears. There were six of them in total, orphans of the last war, and he'd taken them in for no other reason than that he could. It was Elimine's will to help those in need, after all, but even had he not been a man of the cloth, he would have done it anyway.

Sighing, he turned back to his book. It had been years since he'd given through to the last conflict to tear across Elibe, though calling it a war would be a misnomer, to be sure. There had been no great armies and grand battles, for it had been just their small band against the Black Fang and Nergal's morphs.

The friendships he'd forged during the conflict had been binding, and as he thought of the children above, he was grateful for them. Both Lord Hector and Lord Eliwood had promised that his children would have places in their courts, or else as squires to their knights should they so desire, and his eldest, Mel, now a woman in her own right, had already left for Etruria to take up service with House Reglay.

Priscilla still visited from time to time, but of Raven there was no word. He shook his head. That was a memory for another time… Thinking of him was painful, more so the consider the way they had left things after the war.

Lucius started at the knock on his door, and instantly he was on his feet, staff in hand. Grasping his tome, he slowly walked across the room, the words of a spell on the tip of his tongue. The war had left scars upon all of them, and his instincts were still sharp.

Opening the door, just a crack, he peered out into the night, and he let out a gasp of surprise. He hadn't seen her in years, and even though she was no longer the young girl with a formidable grasp of magic who'd fought on the front lines of the war, he would recognise her anywhere.

"Nino," he said, opening the door and ushering her in. There were two children tugging at her cloak, their hair as green as their mother's, and he smiled. If anyone deserved happiness and a family, it was the young woman standing in his home, and he was pleased she had found it.

"Father Lucius," she said, inclining her head in a polite nod. "I am sorry to disturb you so late, but I didn't know who else I could turn to."

He pursed his lips, frowning as he studied her. She had grown out her hair, wearing it in a high ponytail, and the face had grown much slimmer. She was taller, leaner, and… scarred, more scarred than she had been during the last days of the war, in fact. And, her eyes were red, as though she'd been crying.

Thinking quickly, he looked down at her boys, both appearing half-asleep as they clung to her. Kneeling, he looked at them, and winced when he saw their eyes. Cold, too cold for boys so young, and there was a glint in them, one that sent a shiver down his spine. _Jaffar_ , he thought… they had their father's eyes.

"I am Father Lucius," he said kindly. "There are biscuits in the kitchen, and I'm sure the two of you are quite hungry." Ushering them away from their mother and noting her watchful, wary eye, he led them to the kitchen table and served them the jar of biscuits he'd made with Chad that morning.

Satisfied they were busy, he turned to Nino with a frown before following her to the front room. She was tense, so tense, and there was something about the way she kept glancing out the window had his nerves on edge.

"What has happened, Nino?" he asked.

"I cannot stay long, and the entire story is one that is far too long to tell. Suffice to say that the sins of our pasts have a habit of finding us in the end, and there are those in Elibe who have not forgotten that Jaffar and I were once agents of the Black Fang."

"That was a long time, Nino," he said, not liking what he was hearing. "You are no longer the girl you once were, and I do imagine that fatherhood would have mellowed Jaffar to some extent."

"Maybe, but we have been on the run for weeks now, and I can no longer guarantee my sons' safety. There is quite bounty of my husband's head, Lucius, and a larger one on mine."

"No bounty hunter can trouble you should you seek sanctuary in Pherae or Ostia, and neither Lord Eliwood or Lord Hector would turn you away after all that we have been through together."

Nino shook her head before looking at him, her eyes haunted, her voice shaking. Tears sparkled on her cheeks in the dim light of his staff, and then her expression changed, fading to the expressionless mask she had no doubt acquired during her early training for the Black Fang.

"Forgive my bluntness, Father Lucius, but you were raised and trained among priests. Jaffar and I are assassins who once broke into the royal quarters of the crown prince of Bern without raising a single alarm, which is were we all first met, do you remember? No castle, no walls, no lord's protection can keep my family safe now."

She shuddered before rising to her feet, and she took a deep breath.

"Jaffar left to find fresh horses, and he'll be meeting me at the crossroads. We will be riding for Ilia tonight, and we both hope to lose our pursuers in the mountains." The manner in which she said "lose" was enough for Lucius to realize what she intended for those who came after her, and he had to force himself not to frown.

"Even if we are successful, there will be more who come after them, and even Jaffar and I cannot elude them forever. I… I am leaving my sons in your care, Father Lucius, with the knowledge that you will care for them as if they were your own."

He rose up, a word of protest on his tongue. There were other options, other places she could seek solace in, and there were friends the both of them could call on for aid. However, Nino had already spun around, her cloak billowing behind her as she walked out the door.

Lucius went after her, of course, but by the time he reached the door she had already mounted a horse and taken off into the night. He sighed, his eyes feeling wet as she rode off, a pale flower in the darkness.

 _Fin_


	2. Oracle of Destiny

**Oracle of Destiny**

The brigands had come at dawn, infiltrating the castle before the guards could realize what was happening. Faster than was to be expected, they had barged into the throne room, weapons slick with blood. Rebecca and Marcus had raised their weapons, but she had simply raised a hand to stop them. There were too many enemies, and the three of them could not fight them all.

Seated on her husband's throne, Ninian dared not make a move for fear of the bows aimed at her and her friends. Had she still held her dragonstone, she could have ended this in an instant, but the stone had been lost with Nergal, all those years ago. She worried at her lip; perhaps, there was enough power left in her to deal with these brigands, but using it would decrease what was left of her already short lifespan.

She wished Eliwood was here, for he always knew what to do in times of crisis. But, her husband had ridden north three days ago to deal with bandits on the East Road, taking with him most of the garrison. The brigand's attack on the castle had been swift and sudden, and in such a time of peace, Ninian had not expected to be a captive in her own home.

"You," said the lead brigand, a burly man with a hook nose and bushy eyebrows, pointing at her. "How about you lead us to the treasury before things get unpleasant?"

"I am afraid that the only keys to the castle vaults are kept by my husband and our treasurer, both of whom are not in the castle at present," she lied, keeping a wary eye upon the bows. _They mustn't know_ , she thought. Merlinus had taken Roy as soon as the alarm had been raised, and if Elimine was good, her son would be safely out of the castle by now.

"Don't play stupid with us, Ilian whore," a bandit said with a cruel sneer. "You wouldn't want us to go searching for your son, now would you? Precious boy, from what I hear, looks just like his father, and me and my boys have a special hatred for the Lord Eliwood."

At her side, a vein pulsed in Marcus' temple, and Ninian was forced to lay a restraining hand upon his wrist. She had always had a special fondness for the old veteran who'd served House Pherae since her father-in-law's time, and she refused for him to lose his temper, and his life, on her account.

"You will not lay a finger upon my son," she said, and her voice was cold, mist spilling from her lips as she spoke. Glancing at Rebecca, Ninian gave her friend a look, and rose from the throne. What was the gold in her vault when compared to their safety, and the safety of her other subjects, those which depended upon both her and Eliwood for protection. "Threaten him again, and you will pay with your life's blood. Now, I am sure we can come to some arrangement, and I can have my men bring you all the coin you desire."

"Is that so?" asked the brigand. "No, I don't think so. You're going to give us the keys and point us in the right direction, and we'll be helping ourselves. As for my threats…" He chuckled darkly, and Ninian felt her blood run cold.

The doors of the throne room burst open, and three brigands strode in, all looking very pleased with themselves. Two of them dragged Merlinus between them, and all it took was a glance that the portly man had been horribly beaten. Her concern for him, however, paled in contrast to the terror she experienced at the sight of the kicking, screaming boy of four being carried by the scruff of his neck.

"Mother," yelled Roy, catching sight of her. "Mother!"

The brigand in charge shot a sickening grin in her direction before bringing his hand down, hard, on the back of Roy's head. Tears welled in her son's eyes, and the brigand pulled out a knife.

"Now that I've made myself clear, my Lady," he said, "Give us what we want, or I gut the brat like a fish."

Ninian gritted her teeth, and in that moment, the will to maintain what power was left to her vanished. Nothing mattered save for her son's safety, nothing at all, and if the few years she had left were the price she had to pay, then so be it. Eyes gleaming, she descended the stairs from the throne, ignoring Marcus's shout of protest.

"Release my son, now," she ordered, and her voice no longer sounded like her own. It echoed around the room, loud and raw, and she felt her scales darken her pale skin. Her hair fluttered around her, and her pupils became reptilian slits. The cold poured from her in waves, and the brigands shivered; thought, whether from fear or from the cold, she did not know.

"Don't let the brat go," commanded the brigand in charge, but the man holding Roy dropped him like a stone when she turned to glare in his direction. Her son scrambled to his feet and all but flew across the stone floor, burying his tear-stained face into her skirts.

Then, she heard the twang of a bowstring, and from the corner of her eye, she saw an arrow flying towards her head. Flicking a wrist, she tossed it aside with a gust of frigid air, and turned to stare down the archer. He dropped his bow, backing away, and Ninian clenched her teeth as her heart ached in her chest. Too much power, she was burning through too much power, and in this world, every drop of it was vital to her survival.

No… her own life didn't matter. All that mattered was Roy.

"Stay behind me, Roy," she said, narrowing her eyes at the men who stood before her, armed with axes, pikes, bows, and swords. Her son shifted, listening to her without complaint, and she released her hold on him.

Raising her hands before her, she cried out as the blizzard erupted from her. Stone cracked against the biting wave of cold, waves of ice and snow bursting from her between her parted lips, and she felt her spine raise itself against her skin, ridges rising across her back. The brigands howled, their skin raw and red, for ice burned as hot as fire, and her breath was the coldest of them all.

When the last of them had fallen, she fell to her knees, coughing into her sleeve, dotting the delicate fabric with flecks of red. Her body was reverting, returning to her human form, but the strain of even a partial transformation had drained her of nearly all she had. The world spun around her, and she braced herself against the ground with her free hand, still coughing into her sleeve.

"Mother," Roy cried out, his voice laden with panic. "Mother, what's wrong?"

"Lady Ninian," exclaimed Marcus, and she could hear his footsteps, like thunder, as he raced across the room. Rebecca spoke as well, but Ninian could barely hear her. In fact, everything was beginning to fade, but still, she was acutely aware of Roy's thin arms around her, and his tears soaking into her shoulder.

"I love you, Roy," she breathed, finding it difficult to keep her eyes open. "Please don't cry. I just need… to rest… a bit, all… right?"

But, her words were a lie, and everyone in the room knew it.


End file.
